Words We Don't Mean Hurt The Most
by 01blackcat02
Summary: Words have power, especially those that are uttered in the heat of the moment. Those especially can bring either great happiness or endless sorrow. Cross-posted on AO3


England stirred the pot of bubbling green stew. _Hmm I think I put too much salt...a little bit of sugar should do the trick._ Grabbing a jar of the Brit dumped half of its contents into the pot. Large bubble floated up and popped in front of his face. _Oops too much... oh well America likes his sweets so this should be fine._

Continuing to stirring the pot England hummed a tune. He was trying out an original recipe. America kept bragging how his people always created new delicious food, so England decided to give it a try. It couldn't be that hard right? Just like a spell, put a bunch of things in a pot and its ready.

"It's almost ready love!" Yelled the Brit into another room where loud swearing and gun shots could be heard.

The bubbles increased as the stew boiled. "Now let's see...potatoes, cabbage, beef, milk, a few drops of witch hazel...this should do it."

Taking out a spoon England gathered a little of the stew bringing it to his lips to blow on the green liquid. He parted them about to taste it when a voice interrupted him.

"You're not seriously going to try it, right?

Startled England almost dropped the spoon as he twisted to look at America who was leaning against the door frame.

"Of course I was its delicious. A new national dish." The shorter blond proudly boasted.

"Right... let me call the ambulance first." Joked the tall American.

Coming closer to the pot America peered inside. "This is...umm...what is it?"

"My new recipe, try it." England smiled bringing the spoon to America's lips.

"Um, I'd rather have pizza instead..." Glaring at the still bubbling concoction he backed away. "I already ordered it should be here any minute."

England lowered the spoon and frowned. "What? You ordered pizza after I spend hours slaying in the kitchen?!"

"Yea, I know your food is inedible I don't wanna be sick all night and day just because you can't cook." Easily said America. He reached out to pull England to him but the Brit swatted his hands away.

"My food is delicious you just can't appreciate a healthy cooked meal! All day you fill your gut with fat and sugar." Annoyed England whirled around away from his boyfriend. "Fine! I don't care do what you want."

"England wait…" Started America, but the Brit already turned away and grabbed the two handles lifting the heavy pot. Unfortunate he forgot to wear mittens and ended up dropping the whole pot on the floor burning his fingers.

America roughly jerked the shorter man back away from the spilled mess and hot metal pot on the floor. "Shit! England!" The shorter nation curled in on himself pressing his hands into his chest.

America pulled him around. "Let me see."

"I'm fine. I had worse." Stubbornly mumbled England keeping his hands from America.

"I'm sure you have but let's not beat the record. Come on, let me see. Please?" Gently America pulled England's hands away. Fingers and palms flushed an angry red.

"It's going to swell up. Let's run it under cold water." Not looking at his boyfriend England allowed America to gently guide him to the kitchen sink. Turning on the cold water America stood behind England holding his hands under the running water.

"You okay?" Kissing the messy locks America nuzzled into the softness.

"Fine." Curtly replied England, but bit his lips keeping his head down.

Frowning America pressed closer against the curled back. "We should put some cream on that. Keep holding your hands under the water, I'll be right back." Kissing his cheek the American rushed to the upstairs bathroom where he knew England kept the first aid kit.

Bringing it down he was pleased that his stubborn boyfriend didn't moved, but the shaking shoulders told another story. Setting the kit on the counter America opened it and dug through the medical supplies.

"Aha! Found it." Grasping the wet hands he brought them closer to him. The tall blond gently dried the burned skin and liberally applied ointment. "Does it hurt?"

Pushing his lips in a thin line England still refused to meet the sky blue eyes. "We are nations, this is completely unnecessary." The Brit harshly bit out.

America frowned. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't treat it." Trying to lighten the mood he teasingly added. "Maybe it'll teach you to finally stop cooking."

England's green eyes flashed with anger finally glaring the American. "It's always about my cooking! Nobody asked you to eat it!"

"Um…actually you did." America countered refusing to back away from England's challenge. "I told you we should just go out, but you insisted on staying in."

"That's because I don't feel like wasting money on overpriced restaurants every time we need food. Obviously you never learned to manage your expenses! The next new gadget or game or whatever and you need to have it. Learn a little self-control for a change!" England was panting from ranting. He would have jabbed his fingers into America's face but they stun too much.

"Hey! That's the way my economy works! And leave my expenses alone it's my money I do what I want with it!" America angrily threw the cream into the kit. "And you shouldn't be talking to me about wasting money, you spend more cash on groceries, pans, and kitchen repairs by constantly doing what you call cooking. Didn't someone at least teach you how to do it properly? Or maybe you were too busy talking with your imaginary friends to pay attention!" Feeling fired up America just couldn't stop.

Hurt flashed in the green eyes and America felt a sting of guilt in his chest. The water danced in the emerald green eyes but their owner refused to give in. Both nations were silent not looking at each other. England's hands ached, but the pain in his heart was worse. Curtly walking away England reached for a rag.

"Hey, you shouldn't touch anything your hands still hurt." America piped up.

"They're fine. I don't want to keep looking at this mess on my floor any longer." Angrily barked England.

"Just leave it alone, it's not going anywhere." America tried to keep the annoyance from his voice but he wasn't sure it was working.

"Why don't you go and play your games." Calmly replied the British nation, a little too calmly for America's taste.

"Because I know you're gonna do something stupid." Frowning he followed his boyfriend. "Here just give me the rag don't hurt yourself further." Grabbing the rag off the counter out of England's reach, America crouched down wiping down the green goo.

"You're just smearing it all over!" Complained the shorter blond, critically watching as America tried to clean up the ruined strew.

It turned out to be more difficult than America though and he only managed to make an even bigger mess. "God what the hell did you put in here? This is a new level of chemical warfare. Seriously instead of cooking why don't you-"

"Are you going to insult me all night!?" Snapped England, voice raising another notch. "Did it ever occur to you that I actually like cooking? That I do it for..." England's breathe hitched and he quickly wiped at his eyes.

"Jeez maybe you should find a new hobby." Muttered America, but as soon as the words left his mouth he felt even worse about the harsh remark. Ignoring England he chose to focus on spreading the green stuff all over the floor. "This is stupid." Getting up he dropped the soiled rag with the rest of the mess. "Come on this can wait; the pizza should be here soon let's just watch a movie or something."

England's eyes stun as much as his hands but America's remarks went straight to his heart resurfacing all his fears and doubts about their special relationship. Still glaring at the ruined dinner and American converse shoes that England repeatedly asked him to take off while inside, England suddenly felt a wave of uncontrolled rage. "It's always about you. It's me me me me me! But what about what I want!?"

"God England, if you wanted to eat this stuff so badly I'm not going to stop you." America was growing tiered of this argument. All he wanted was some cuddle time on the couch while munching on pizza, was that too much to ask?

"It's not about the bloody stew you imbecile! You make fun of my hobbies, my friends, my fashion, my cooking, everything! Is my whole existence just some kind of a joke to you! If you don't like me then what the hell are you still doing here!?"

America scowled annoyed that this turned into another one of their screaming matches, although this one was going down a very dangerous road. "I'm not making fun of you, I'm just joking around." He was being defensive and hard headed and he knew it, but he just couldn't stop. "Besides you make fun about my thing too. Every time we watch one of my movies you keep telling me how bad it is."

"At least I stay awake!" Countered England.

"Oh yea thanks. I'd rather you just pass out so I don't have to listen to your raspy old man voice!" America yelled back.

"Well why the fuck do you keep bothering coming here? If I'm such a troublesome old man go find someone else who will to pick up after you and listen to your endless whining like the child that you are."

"I'm not a child!" If there's one thing America loathed was being called a child and he knew England knew that.

"See throwing a tantrum you might as well be a tot." England was pushing America's buttons and not in a good way.

Shaking with rage America fisted his hands in an effort to not punch England's face, but what left his mouth was even worse. "You know what!? Sometime I wish I never met you!"

Silence filled the space between them. Both green and blue eyes wide and filled with hurt. Guild ate away at America but he refused to take the words back. _England deserved it, I was just trying to be a good boyfriend, but all England did was try to pick a fight._ Turning his back on the shaking Brit, America walked into the living room. "I'm going for a walk" Grabbing his jacked hanging over the sofa on the way to the front door America angrily pulled the heavy coat on struggling to ignore the muffled crying coming from the kitchen. With resolved will America grabbed his keys and phone and walked into the cold September night.


End file.
